Sneaker meets pavement. Closed fists meet doors. Knock knock knock. “Mrs. Miller, can Ethan come out and play?” These were the dog days, the best days, of summer in eastern North Carolina. A group of sweaty kids waited on the Miller’s front porch. Ethan finally made his way out and we were on our way. We started walking, teasing each other and laughing. Stopping at my house, the white brick one that initiated the circle that was Rolston Road, we grabbed some bottled waters. Our next stop, the field. We ran to the vacant lot across from my house and started our day of infinite adventure. We played cops and robbers, pirates, soccer, and any other game we could think of. Unmowed grass, scattered dirt patches, and puddles of mud around us; we played and played until the blazing sun left the sky. No, this field was not beautiful in the least. The lot itself was a beast who couldn’t be tamed. No amount of mowing or fertilizer made him attractive, and after a while the adults stopped trying. They accepted him as an eyesore. For us Rolston kids, though, the field was perfect. In our minds, …show more content…
The beast was in his prime. He was confident, carefree, and exuberant. His green, tall grass tickled our ankles and dusty, flaky mud covered our shoes. Bugs buzzed around in the humid air. Regardless of the sweltering southern heat, morning till night, the field was alive. With the sun warm on our skin, we played capture the flag, red rover, and any variation of tag. Once, my mom bought us a badminton set, and we spent a whole day attempting to figure out how to play this crazy new game. The beast was our sitter, watching out for us with a wary eye. Sometimes, when the heat got too oppressive, we roamed the neighborhood, eyes peeled and ears listening for the ice cream truck. Sweaty t-shirts, sticky faces, and uncontrollable laughter filled these summer days. The beast was our best buddy; he never failed to entertain
While at school August had many chances to go on intriguing adventures, some he was interested in and some he didn’t seem too excited about. At the end of the year the entire 5th grade went on a field
It was a hot, Thursday afternoon. So hot you could burn your hand by touching a window. So hot, you could fry an egg on the sidewalk. Three weeks from now was the best day in 2th grade, field day. Today we were picking relay teams
The school year has ended and summer has officially come. The season has brought nice weather and an important event called summer vacation. Most students enjoy this yearly event, mostly outside. But not so for Greg Heffley. In this book Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Dog Days by Jeff Kinney, Greg, a wimpy middle grade student wants to spend the entire summer in his house alone playing his favorite video games. However, his mother’s idea for her son is completely the opposite. This idea takes Greg to places throughout his neighborhood, a country club, a friend’s house, as well as his Grandma’s house. His diary entries chronicle the entire summer from his perspective.
My small, sweaty palms griped the cold fence as I looked on nervously at my brother’s baseball game. I was waiting for the final out of the game so that I could run onto the field and around the bases as I did after every game. As a young child, my parents were always searching for something to keep me entertained. I was a bubbly child with an endless amount of energy. Being that I was the only girl amongst four boys, I was always electrified in their presence. I wanted to be involved in all their wrestling, running and playing. Being the type of child who loved to play, I would stay outside until I was forced to come in. I would run along the dimly lit street, making up my own games and making new friends. Even when I got older, my energy did not fade. At
In the story nature is often personified in A Long Way Gone, several instances of this as seen throughout the memoir of the book. In the book the boys and Ishmael joined a hunting party game. It was a very successful night and they came back to the town with foods and games. They did compete dancing and music they notice happiness is temporary. Later that night Musa told the boys and Ishmael story about a Bra Spider’s Tale.
on a beautiful summer day in a small town. The author describes the day as very
The poem "Summer" by Dean Myers uses figurative language throughout to convey the simple joys experienced during a hot summer day. By using repetition and imagery to create a scene for his readers to experience and understand his message. I chose this poem because it reminded me of my summer experiences that are similar to this one depicted by Mr. Myers.
is drawn into a Paradise that is fantastically created, an Eden that is not limited in its range of
Running around in the yard on a warm summer evening. No shoes are needed for this activity, they thought. My mother sitting next to her grandfather, swinging her bare feet from the old wooden bench out back. Her fondest memory was unfolding in front of her eyes. Uncle Scott and Cousin Kevin were running around yelling “throw it to me, to me.” My mother’s grandfather was throwing the baseball back and forth with the boys as my mother watched. “I loved watching the boys push and shove each other to be the one to catch the ball.” my mother said. As my mother bonded with her grandfather, they could hear the okra popping in the grease and the smell of the cheesy mashed potatoes lingering through the kitchen window. As grandma finished with dinner, she came outside and saw that the kids didn’t have shoes on. My mother vividly remembers this part of the story because she said “one thing that I remember is that maw maw never raised her voice very often.” Grandma looks sternly at Grandpa and shouts “what
We first went to the Ramkota to check in and put our stuff in the room, and then we left to go to the dinosaur park. After climbing the steep set of stairs, up to the seven dinosaur sculptures. Kae Lynn took off running to the tallest dinosaur, screaming “The long-neck asaurus!”. My Mom then had us stand underneath the tallest dinosaur by its belly and also had us sit on the Triceratops, so that she could take pictures of the three of us. Then we went to Flags and Wheels, to play laser tag. When we got there we had to put on these light up vests that glowed two different colors, red and blue. All of the lights flickered off before the game started, making it completely dark except for the glow in the dark paint splattered on the walls. After playing a couple of games, we finally came out of the room, our eyes hurting from being in the dark for so long and our skin glistening with sweat, while our chests hurt from
On my hunk of rusted metal long ago called a bike I rode up to the thing I once called home in the hot Louisiana sun. It was the Oak Grove football field. I slowly rolled up with my brakes creaking like the knee brace I wore, I came to a halt ready to start on my adventure once again. I strolled up to the field and everyone eyes traveled straight to me.
When the “beast” was first mentioned by the mulberry boy, it was not a big issue with the boys, however, it slowly evolved into an obstacle
The typical human considers grass as mere terrain, as something to step on while walking. Most mere mortals do not view it as mighty, but they often forget that grass will cover any and everything if given enough time to grow. The speaker of Carl Sanburg’s “The Grass,” grass itself, utilizes quantitative adjectives and the comparison between imperative and stative verbs to convey its superiority and nature’s permanence compared to ephemeral human life.
Sir Ken Robinson once quoted, “Children are wonderfully confident in their own imaginations. Most of us lose this confidence as we grow up.” This exhibits how childhood is a time where children are consumed with their own imagination and the perception that everything is a magical fairy tale. They wonder their eyes on the outskirts of giant, rolling hills, and forests imagining all the wild phenomenons they could endure. They paint a clear picture of a forest or any other location they might be at, as a place of adventure, and to let their insane imagination run wild.
The fleeting changes that often accompany seasonal transition are especially exasperated in a child’s mind, most notably when the cool crisp winds of fall signal the summer’s end approaching. The lazy routine I had adopted over several months spent frolicking in the cool blue chlorine soaked waters of my family’s bungalow colony pool gave way to changes far beyond the weather and textbooks. As the surrounding foliage changed in anticipation of colder months, so did my family. My mother’s stomach grew larger as she approached the final days of her pregnancy and in the closing hours of my eight’ summer my mother gently awoke me from the uncomfortable sleep of a long car ride to inform of a wonderful surprise. No longer would we be returning to the four-story walk up I inhabited for the majority of my young life. Instead of the pavement surrounding my former building, the final turn of our seemingly endless journey revealed the sprawling grass expanse of a baseball field directly across from an unfamiliar driveway sloping in front of the red brick walls that eventually came to be know as home.